


Pisa

by TheJoysOfAMultishipper (Amemah)



Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Darcy Lewis is a BAMF, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5306681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amemah/pseuds/TheJoysOfAMultishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You were trained by the Black Widow?”</p><p>Darcy wrinkled her nose at Eliot, a little bit offended. “Don’t sound so surprised; I’ll have you know we have dinner and discuss Anne Boleyn <em>at least</em> three times a week.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pisa

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt fill from tumblr, which asked for Darcy/Eliot! 
> 
> If you're confused about what they're actually talking about, check the end notes :)
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, I love reading them!  
> Hugs <3
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr! Come say hi!](http://thejoysofamultishipper.tumblr.com/)

“You were trained by the Black Widow?”

Darcy wrinkled her nose at Eliot, a little bit offended. “Don’t sound so surprised; I’ll have you know we have dinner and discuss Anne Boleyn _at least_ three times a week.”

“Anne Boleyn?” Eliot sheathed his knife, and then hid it somewhere on his body. Darcy had given up trying to figure out where he stored them, supposing she should allow him _some_ aura of mystery.

“Yes.” Darcy shrugged, and bent to pick her Glock up from the pavement. She holstered it with practiced and natural ease as Eliot watched; making her skin tingle all over. He was intense, but in a good way. A _very_ good way. “My middle name is Lucrezia – of course I have a fondness for renaissance women.”

“I would offer to be the César to your Lucrécia, but…”  
Darcy echoed Eliot’s grimace, nodding. “How about the Micheletto to my Cesare? They seemed to have a pretty good thing going on.”

His lips twitched in a poor attempt to hide a grin. “You want my undying devotion, Darcy? It’s going to take more than a dinner before I’m willing to endure the rack for you.”  
Darcy ignored the implications hidden behind the teasing; she had no interest in an executioner. “Well, New York would never be Pisa. And I’m surprised; not many prefer the Spanish spelling.”

“I’m traditional.” He shrugged with faux modesty, hiding whatever he was feeling behind an open book. It was very Machiavellian, and _very_ Sophie Deveraux. Darcy nearly grinned when she realized this wasn’t the same man she’d had a lovely first date with. This was Eliot Spencer, the hitter to Parker’s thief. Whoever she was 

“You’re also a man of hidden depths, Eliot.” Darcy walked towards him, sidestepping the three assholes lying unconscious beside them, very careful not to make a sound. She had a feeling Eliot would appreciate knowing how broad her skillset was. “Hitter, grifter, historian, chef…”

“I take it this wasn’t a date then?” He asked, but didn’t seem hurt by it. If anything, he was amused. Darcy could appreciate that – in fact, she definitely did –, she’d lost count of how many men and women were hurt by the fact that she was sent to gather information. To find a mark that not only understood the business _he_ was in, but also respected _her_ work… Yes. Darcy could appreciate that.

“I don’t see why not.” Darcy countered, coming to a stop right in front of him. She had no weapons on her person, and neither did he, but her heart still pounded against her ribs. Not with fear – not for a long time – but with adrenalin. Anticipation.

“You make a habit of mixing business with pleasure, Agent Borja?” Eliot asked, and how he managed to make his voice so soft, yet so commanding made her skin tingle again.  
“No really.” Darcy shifted on her feet, so the button of her jeans scraped against his belt buckle.

She could feel the heat of him through their clothes, the surprising softness of his stomach. He wasn’t as sculpted as Captain Rogers, but Darcy did not underestimate the man before her.  
Eliot raised an eyebrow at her, still amused. His breathing hadn’t changed, nor was he blushing or _excited_ , but Darcy could tell he wasn’t unaffected. It was in his shoulders, his jaw. It was always a thrill to watch someone become helpless to their own desires, but when that person was usually so in control of their body – that was something else.

“Are you seducing me, then?” He leaned down until they were nose tip to nose tip, his lips barely brushing hers. She could feel them sticking to her lipstick for a few microseconds, but it was too dark to see if it had smeared onto his lips. She’d like to see it one day, though. Preferably in a few hours – and then again, a few hours after that.

“No,” Darcy looked up at him through her lashes. “No, you’d know if I were seducing you. This is me, asking if your team would like to join the Avengers on a freelance basis. It won’t be public of course, but your set of skills would come in handy every now and again.”

One of Eliot’s broad hands trailed up her thigh as she spoke, settling in the small of her back. He was still amused, but he also seemed intrigued. Darcy could work with that.

“Why? Potts already knows everyone’s dirty laundry. We’re waiting patiently for the arrests to roll on CNN.”  
“There’s a time and a place for everything, Eliot. You know that.” Darcy grinned, quick and wide, before leaning up to nip at his lower lip. His hand tightened around her sweater in surprise, and the way his breath hitched made her smirk _that_ much haughtier.

“I’ll talk to my boss.” He finally answered, after what seemed like an eternity of him staring into her eyes. It wasn’t romantic, per se, but there was _something_ there, besides the questioning. A hint of potential. “I won’t make any promises, _Lucrécia_.”

“Fair enough.” Darcy said, smiling. “But until then, what do you say to bringing these assholes –“ She gestured to men on the ground, all of them in various states of bloody, “ – to Detective Peralta, and then you can take me home?”

“That sounds like a valid strategy."

**Author's Note:**

> \---Darcy’s middle name is Lucrezia, and she is named after Lucrezia Borgia. Lucrezia Borgia was the daughter of Cardinal-Bishop Rodrigo Borgia (Later Pope Alexander Sextus) and Vanozza dei Catanei. Lucrezia had several siblings, one of them being Cesare Borgia, Duke of Valentinois. 
> 
> \---When Eliot says “The César to your Lucrécia” he says it as reference to rumours of incest between Lucrezia and Cesare.
> 
> \---When Darcy mentions Micheletto, she means Micheletto Corella, Cesare Borgia’s right hand. He was known as his executioner, and was extremely loyal to his master. Micheletto also endured torture in Rome (At the hands of Pope Julius II (DONT QUOTE ME ON THAT. I’m fairly certain I’m right, but not completely. Julius II was baptised Giuliano della Rovere and was basically Alexander Sextus’ archnemesis)), but refused to tell on his master. 
> 
> \---When Darcy says, “New York would never be Pisa” She’s referencing The University of Pisa, which was where Micheletto and Cesare met. 
> 
> \---Lucrécia and Césare are the Spanish spellings of their names. Same with Borja. They were originally Spanish. Valencian or Catalan, I can’t quite remember. 
> 
> \---Anne Boleyn was Henry VIII second wife (First wife was Katarina of Aragon, whose parents were Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. They were actually known as Most Catholic Majesty, and if I remember correctly, Rodrigo Borgia had something to do with that. Which is so fucking weird I can’t even.). 
> 
> \--- Anne was beheaded by King Henry on suspicion of adultery, incest and treason. One of those relationships were allegedly with her brother, George. 
> 
> \---
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr! Come say hi!](http://thejoysofamultishipper.tumblr.com/)


End file.
